Today there is calm on the stairway and I go with peace and something else, a kind of comfortable feeling, a surety that I will be happy with what I find and a contentment that all that I discover will be as it is meant to be. I walk the stairs today with a feeling of acceptance of all that I am, and the knowledge that part of that acceptance includes the release of that which has fulfilled its purpose. The smooth stairs are soft beneath my bare feet, and the air is gentle on my skin. I am aware that I stand at the tipping point, the balance between the end of one cycle and the beginning of the next, that all things are contained here, and that within that gamut of experience lies the seed, that after the flood that I will find again, The Ace of Cups.
I reach the door with a heart filled with love, and I find that it opens softly to let me slip gently past the shimmering flame and scarlet image hanging in the portal, as I find yet more fabric hanging there and the silken swathes slide off my skin as I tread further into the card.
My bare toes are curling up in pleasure, the feel of a deep wool carpet beneath them and I look down to see them planted in a garden of color. Rich reds, apricots, gold and amber riot across the floor, a carpet with a mystical story, a carpet emblazoned with the image of the Kabbalah, the Tree of Life. There are other patterns too, clustered around the edges, star maps, constellations and astrological figures, emblems worked in darker colors of navy and charcoal, with here and there the fleck of silver and the hint of precious gold. I finally look away from the fascination on the floor, and see that I am in a tent the roof of which is hung with more drapes in the form of colored silks, and that there is an opening at the far end of the “room” that I am in. I head towards the door, eager to find what lies beyond this magical carpeted place.
I find that I am walking towards the perfect stillness of a summer’s dawn. The air is washed with the scent of water and roses and there is the essence of forever in the slight breeze. Emerging from the womb like softness of tent, I am startled by the empty whiteness before me, I am standing on cool ground and again I am aware of the sensations on my feet… sand sliding between my toes, the desire to bury them and dig them in, to play like a child at the beach.
I see the land before me rising slightly, I am in a sheltered area and I decide to walk up to the top of the nearest ridge, not far, in order to get a better look at the place that I have arrived at. It doesn’t take me long to get to the top of the nearest ridge and as I arrive, I see that I am looking down on a small group of Bedouin type tents, carefully made of camel skins and woven cloth, bound down with ropes. Camels are tethered a short way from the camp and dogs lurk on the edges seeking their portion of what remains. It is early, and the women are moving around the encampment, huddled against the comparative chill of the pre-dawn air. The beautiful tent, the one with the carpet, is one of several in the camp that is placed in the seemingly endless landscape, cool in the early light. The Sun is not yet over the horizon and the burning heat of the day is just a suggestion, creating a place and a moment in time to enjoy the rare beauty of this place. As I look down at the encampment I see a man beginning to climb the hill after me. He draws closer, and I see by his kind face and familiar smile, that he is my father, but that he is also Malachi, and I also realize that today I am a boy, of about 14 or 15 years of age…
My father sits down next to me and I am aware that he is in charge of the camp and that he has come to take his bearings for the next move.
I ask him how he knows where to go next, what the plan is, how he knows when it is time to move. He looks at me with love, and tells me how he watches for the signs, the flight of the birds, the habits of the animals and the vagaries of the weather. He tells me that it is a language that you can learn, and that if you learn it well that it will guide you through any difficulty or danger that you may encounter, if only you can listen to the signs. My question answered, and his too, we walk back down to the tents and I go back into the place with the beautiful carpet. I lie upon it and listen to the tapestry of sounds that are breaking the day.
I can hear my baby sister crying for some attention, then gurgling with pleasure as someone finds her and picks her up. My mother and my aunts, their low murmurs indecipherable as they move about the place, wrapped against the coolness, prepare the breakfast, boiling water for tea and frying bread over the low fire. I can hear the camels snorting, shifting against the hobbles, my dog, playing with one of the puppies in the sand beyond the circle. I smell the sweet tang of peppermint tea, charcoal and the mystery of frankincense, the singe of frying butter and hot bread. It washes over me, this smell of security, of comfort, of happiness. I inhale the smell of home, the smell of peace, the smell of contentment. The fears of childhood are behind me, the burdens of adulthood unknown…. I am full, I am complete, poised at perfection and lying on a soft wool carpet….. The day, the move, the journey, my life, is all unknown and the knowing seems unimportant now, because at this moment it is only this feeling, this happiness, this essence of forever.
The 10 of Cups
Mars in Pisces
Lord of Perfected Happiness
My name is Joanna Grant, I am an Astrologer, Tarot Reader and Writer, who lives on the beautiful Beara Peninsula in the South West of Ireland. I can often be found at home, deep in arcane research, or practicing some new form of divination whilst burning the dinner! My children probably wish that I was “normal” but may well remember my eccentricities fondly when they come to face the challenges of their own paths. My long knowledge of Astrology leads and informs my practice, in offering guidance, empowerment and healing, helping others to lead a more authentic and magical life. You can read more about me here.
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